


Soulmate Marks (the Tragic Past remix)

by captain_starcat



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Not actually a remix, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, self-indulgent fun with tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_starcat/pseuds/captain_starcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story is too familiar. Like Napoleon, Illya found his soulmate early: matching marks, young love, the works. And, like Napoleon, he lost his soulmate early, and under tragic circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmate Marks (the Tragic Past remix)

**Author's Note:**

> This happened while I was trying to write a much longer and slightly less ridiculous Soulmate Marks Trope fic. I'm still banging my head against that one, I'll post it eventually. Until then, enjoy this piece of complete silliness. Unbeta'd but I gave it a good look-over, let me know if I missed anything :)

The story is too familiar. Like Napoleon, Illya found his soulmate early: matching marks, young love, the works. And, like Napoleon, he lost his soulmate early, and under tragic circumstances.

"In fact, the fire that took Alexei took my mark as well," Illya tells him from the foot of the bed. It's the night after their first mission as partners, with more on the way, and that means drunken hotel room bonding. Old UNCLE tradition.

"I'm not a person who sees things as 'signs', but that one seemed clear enough," Illya continues bitterly, taking another pull of the terrible vodka he's been complaining about all night. Apparently it's still better than Napoleon's terrible whiskey, and Napoleon might have to agree, but it's all they managed to get hold of here in the middle of nowhere. Any booze is still better than none at all: drunken hotel room bonding is a vital ritual for new partnerships, and Napoleon especially doesn't want to jinx this one.

"I can show you, if you like--" Illya starts undoing his cuff to pull his sleeve up.

"I lost mine, too," Napoleon says, leaning forward from where he's claimed the headboard, and the pillows. Illya raises his head enough to shoot an inquiring look from under his hair, so Napoleon gathers himself and continues.

"My mark, when I lost Josie. Our mark." Napoleon clears his throat, suddenly gone tight. "I was with the CIA, and the bomb had been sent to our house. I got burned trying to go back for her." It's been a while, but there's still a hollowness when he thinks about it, so he avoids Illya's eyes to take a swig of his (truly) terrible whiskey. And then he goes to pull up his own sleeve, because Illya's showing him his and this is drunken hotel room bonding and that's how this works.

But then he actually _looks_ at the burn scar on Illya's forearm, where his mark used to be, and feels his jaw drop.

"...What?" Illya asks, fidgeting. "It's not _so_ bad, is it?"

In lieu of reply, Napoleon finishes pulling up his sleeve to reveal the burn scar on his own forearm. It matches Illya's exactly.

Illya starts laughing, and doesn't stop for a long, long time.


End file.
